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Took a drive out to the river the other day. It's high water time, so I hadn't planned on fishing.
Still, it's good to get out of the house for a few hours. Walk around, shoot a few photos, breathe the sweet spring air.
Everything is green. Finally. There's no annoying bugs yet either. Don't worry, they're coming. Do you know where your bug dope is?
Best of all, I came home with a prize. A massive haul of three morels. Not quite enough for a meal. Luckily I'd accumulated a stash of dried ones over the years. They've been stored in glass jars waiting for a date with the frying pan. The fresh ones are more flavorful, less rubbery. But, the dried ones do in a pinch.
So, tortellini with morels and asparagus. Today was the day.
It's a simple dish. Along with the tortellini, asparagus and mushrooms, butter and bacon round out the flavors.
And, there's a little garlic for vampire abatement. A little parmesan. A splash of milk. Done.
Ma…

It was nine below when I pulled out of the driveway on Saturday, the second day of January. Moments earlier, my wife had remarked that it was thirty-six above in Fairbanks. Who'd of thunk it? Forty-five degrees warmer in the interior of Alaska than in Montana. This bit of trivia means little other than in passing conversation. It assumes some greater significance for us in that one of our Brittany pups would soon be boarding a plane, destined for a life of chasing ruffed grouse and ptarmigan in the far north.
So, frigid temperatures notwithstanding, I decided to take a drive. In the least, I'd make a token appearance creekside. It was to be a brilliantly clear day and I didn't want to miss it. I planned on a day of thinking about fishing rather than wetting a line. When I arrived at the creek it had warmed nicely, to two below. Thank God for barrel stoves! I wasted no time in crumpling paper and stuffing kindling and bigger wood into the stove. My fingers were …

Yesterday was hike day. The destination: Cottonwood Lake in the Crazy Mountains. The "Crazies" are an isolated "island" mountain range in south central Montana. A few widely dispersed dusty dirt roads provide access to the a limited number of trailheads.
The trail starts as an old roadbed. After a couple of miles, it morphs into a standard hiking trail as it climbs its way into the high country. Since its a scenic drainage, and not too far from Bozeman, its predictably popular with hikers.
After a couple of hours of hiking and admiring the views, I made it to the lake . I noted no fish activity, even though it was reportedly stocked a couple of years ago (I have caught fish here in the past). I walked around the lake but didn't see any cruising fish. No matter.
Still feeling good after a short break, I pondered my next move. Rig the rod or hike further? I decided that it was time to exorcise an old demon by attempting another scramble up to Grass…